Okay, Thief
by thequeenregina
Summary: Day 3 and 4 combined for outlawqueen smut week. What happens when the infamous Robin hood tries to steal from the infamous Evil Queen?


**I combined day 3 and day 4 for outlawqueen smut week: "Okay, Thief" turns porny and the Evil Queen and Robin hood before the first curse.**

 **This is very porny, ENJOY!**

 **And please let me know what you think with a review!**

* * *

Robin Hood is good at what he does; his feet are nifty and his actions are quick. He's known for his craft, an art form in the mind of himself and his men, a pain in the arse for everyone else in the kingdom. However today is his 5478th day on the job and not once has he been caught. Sure, he's had a few near misses once or twice, nearly lost a finger or two from swinging swords or booby traps in hidden spots he could not have hypothesised. But he still stands today, barely a scar on his muscular body nor metaphorically imbedded in his brain.

Hood had never had trouble fighting magic, not even that of famous wizards or witches as he nicked what he could, what he could pawn for gold. However, it seems that 5478 is his unlucky number for today is the day that he was outwitted.

Robin shivers in the dankness of the dark, stony walls which currently keep him trapped under the watchful eyes of flame and dripping water. The halls are silent and it only amplifies his heartbeat which currently beats rapidly as he tries to find a way out of this mess. He knew he shouldn't have set foot in the castle, knew he should've waited for a carriage to ride by which he could've hijacked and claimed it's belongings as his own to do with as he pleased. However, he didn't, and he got caught.

Perhaps he's getting too old for this job, perhaps it's time to pack this whole thieving business in, though after today he may not have much choice. The Evil Queen from Misthaven is ruthless by rumour and though Robin has never crossed paths with the woman he has a funny feeling he is about to. He's heard she has killed entire villages, slaughtered towns of innocents and so he can only begin to imagine what she is going to do to him... a man who has tried and failed to thieve from her.

Suddenly the sound of heels clicking and echoing across the stoned walkway clacks throughout each and every empty cell which surrounds the thief and he finds himself subconsciously taking a step back. Robin's eyes fall to the floor outside of his cell as a dark shadow casts across the floor from around the corner before the hem of an extravagantly Regal dress, garnet in colour, comes into sight.

He chances a glance upwards and is met with a heavily shadowed expression, dark from the dim light and hard to make out, however what he does make out chills him to the bone as two glowing eyes stare straight into his, coloured a terrifying orange as they reflect the burning torches in the most sinister of ways.

"Many people would call a man like you brave," she speaks, her voice a low purr just above a whisper to fight the bothersome echo. "I prefer the term foolish."

The queen takes a final step forward, her face newly lit by the flickering torch outside of his cell, revealing her striking features to him. For a moment he holds his breath, the queen is surely beautiful but it's a dangerous beauty, a cruel beauty enhanced by dark make up and a chilling stare.

She lets out a laugh then, one which has Robin jumping slightly, eyes narrowing as he looks at her in silent confusion. "You thought you could steal from me?" she asks, her tone mocking and condescending, "Tell me, thief, what is your name."

Silence.

It's a bold move, he knows, disobeying the queen by refusing to answer her, but a name can give so much away, can leave him vulnerable to whatever punishment she has in store, so he won't give it. Not if he can help it. Robin casts his eyes down, turns his head to look away in defiance and though he cannot see it, the room suddenly heats and he can tell that he's making the queen's blood boil.

The royal steps forward, curls her fingers around the bars and presses her face between them, "It seems we have ourselves a selective mute."

She's playing a game, a sick, twisted game which Robin is sure involves his life in one way or another (whether that be a prize to be won or a forfeit to be paid) but he will not play into her hands, he will not give in easily and give her the satisfaction of an effortless win. So, he remains quiet, remains frozen to the spot but not out of fear, out of rebellion.

The queen huffs, pushing back violently from the cell and making the bars rattle. "You really are foolish," she hisses, eyeing the man in front of her but he can tell by the slight twitch in her lip that it's a look of admiration over disgust. He doesn't miss how her gaze lingers on his slightly exposed chest, how her head tilts just slightly and sharp white teeth sink into a full bottom lip. "But what you lack in wit you make up for in looks," she adds, making her attraction clear as a wicked grin crosses her lips, "I'd guess something cliché, a man known by a moniker rather than by his forename. Am I right?"

But still there is still no answer, no eye contact and no acknowledgment from the burglar.

A low animalistic growl echoes through his cell and Robin wonders for a moment whether he can recall seeing any guard dog of sort on his journey through the dungeon, but his blood chills as realisation sets in; it's coming from her, and her patience is running thin.

"Okay, _thief_ , since you don't want to talk it seems I am going to have to take a more direct approach," she growls, using her magic to swing the metal bars of the cell open before stepping in and taking his neck in her hand, squeezing painfully.

"Tell. Me. Your. Name."

Robin gasps for air, eyes bulging as his hands scramble at hers around his neck, desperate to pull her from him, but it's to no avail and as breath becomes nonexistent and his head begins to throb he has no other option but to rasp out, "Hood."

"Hood," the queen repeats, testing the name on her tongue, and for a moment Robin is lead to believe that his wanted posters and poor reputation hasn't reached as far as this land, but when he watches as realisation dawns in her features, he knows that he should be so lucky. "Robin Hood," she purrs with wide eyes full with a new excitement, "Well, well, and here I was thinking that an infamous character like you wouldn't be as ill-advised as to trespass onto my property," she growls releasing his neck as she pushes him back against the wall with a snarl.

Robin heaves in a long sigh, filling his lungs with the air they so desperately craved before shaking his head, "Not many people understand my methods, your majesty," he retorts, a need to continue the broken silence suddenly building his confidence.

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, obviously taken aback by the thief's sudden boldness, however an odd delight seems to shine in her dark orbs, "Foolish and arrogant," she acknowledges, swinging the cell door closed with the two of them still in it, sending a chill through Robin's veins. "You really are asking for punishment aren't you?"

Robin shakes his head, "If you're going to kill me I suggest you get it over with, I'm not a piece of meat and I don't like to be toyed with, your majesty."

"Oh but that's exactly what you are, _thief._ A delicious piece of meat which I intend to devour," she purrs, stalking towards him until he is pinned between bodice and stone, "You're just far too scrummy to feed to the birds, Hood. So, I would quite like to keep you, as my own."

Robin's brow furrows at her wording but instead of the expected feeling of dread he expects to wash over him, he is hit with something else. Arousal. He swallows thickly, trying not to let his demeanour crumble, his attraction show, but it does. He knows it does because the queen grins, bites her lip before leaning in terribly close.

"You know I have never fucked a prisoner before..." she whispers, her scarlet lips brushing Robin's ear, "And I have certainly never fucked a man in his cell."

Robin's mouth goes dry and what on earth does he answer to that? The truth? The fact that, despite all morals, he rather likes the sound of that? Being fucked in his very own cell? But he knows that she knows he does, that's why she is doing this, she is using her physical assets to distract him and strip him of his character. However, if sex with a powerful queen is to be his punishment then he will quite happily take the slap to the wrist.

"Then what?" he husks, he's brainstorming, playing along and by the way the queen shifts closer he can tell she likes it.

"Then," she begins, bringing a hand to slip beneath his shirt and across his delightfully chiselled chest, "then I am going to retreat back to my room and replay it over and over again in my head whilst I pleasure myself to the thought of your cock."

Robin swallows, the contact and the queen's words are driving him insane, he licks his lips, tilts his head before bumping his lips against black locks, "Then?" he whispers again, his voice hopeful for the answer to involve some kind of freedom.

The queen grins, giving his nipple an almost painful twist which makes him hiss as she answers, "Then? Then I will come back tomorrow."

 _Tomorrow._ Just how long does she intend to keep him down here for?

Robin's breath hitches as he feels the queen's hand travel southwards, as far as she can reach without the material being completely absent and then she is retreating her fingers, bringing them up his neck and through his hair which she tugs roughly, tugs his face downwards where her eyes can burn into his. "No more talking," she commands and before Robin can even agree her lips are crashing against his.

It's not as messy as he would've thought, not that he has had much time to put any thought into it. Her lips move expertly across his, parting his, biting his, licking his as she presses her body flush to him. There's no turning back now, and Robin isn't sure he'd be able to even if he wanted to, not with the queen's vice like grip on his hair and now his bicep.

There's no bed in the cell, no soft blankets or cushions and it makes the thief wonder just how the queen intends to be taken, or rather intends to take him. There is no doubt about it that she is dominant one in the bedroom.

"Your knees," she commands as she steps back, their lips smacking as they pull apart abruptly.

Suddenly, Robin feels a pull of magic force his hands backwards as they become tied behind his back by an invisible force. His eyes widen but at the queen's harsh glare, he does as he is told, sinking to the ground and onto his knees despite the instant discomfort.

The royal smiles crudely, drops a hand to caress the back of his head patronisingly, "Such a good, thief."

 _The patronising little_ \- but before Robin can retort, to try and hold onto at least a smidge of his dignity, he finds himself tongue tied as a large amount clothing vanishes from his sight. Including all of his own. "Bullocks," he mutters under his breath as the queen's eyes drop to his very evident growing arousal now fully on show.

"Oh... bullocks, indeed," the queen retorts with a low chuckle (she wasn't meant to hear that) her eyes examining his genitalia with the upmost attention, "My, my, thief, it seems I was lucky that it was you who tried to rob me of my jewels."

Robin feels his cheeks flush at the scrutinising gaze and comments, it barely allows him time to pay much notice to the fact that the queen stands before him in a pair of suspenders, crotchless underwear and a bodice which is about to spill. The little clothing she now dons showing her power and control over him as he kneels before her as naked as the day he was born.

The seductress steps forward, her feet still clad in black heels as she places a foot either side of Robin's lap before bending forward so that she can look into her bandit's eyes, "Suck me, Hood. Make me wet for that marvellous cock of yours."

And _God,_ her voice, _her audacity_ , despite how much he wishes it doesn't, it really makes everything south of his waist throb and twitch with desire. His mouth salivates at the thought of getting to taste her, a slight feminine musk filling his nostrils as the queen straightens and grabs his head, tugging it between the joining of her thighs.

He wastes no time in giving her what she wants, his nose skimming her clit as his tongue comes out to sweep through her folds. The queen doesn't utter a single word, yet he can tell by the slight buckle of her knee as she reaches to steady herself using the wall that he is doing something right.

"Mmm," he moans allowing the vibrations to travel across her slit, the slight taste of royalty filling his taste buds as he begins to lap at her. He hasn't done this many times before, wouldn't call himself an expert at the task but he knows what makes a woman gasp, what makes their thighs tremble and their eyes flutter closed.

"Suck," she commands hoarsely, her legs parting wider, giving him more access to do so. Robin moves his lips further north, using his teeth to guide the queen's sensitive bud between his lips before he is doing exactly as she wishes; sucking.

This time she doesn't keep quiet, this time her moan echoes off of the walls of the cell as she throws her head back, her hair cascading down the backs of her shoulders like a forbidden, ebony waterfall. Her hips begin to move in rhythm to his lips, grinding against his mouth, his chin, his stubble, to gain any extra sensation she can, and Robin can feel her grow wetter, feel her begun to coat his chin in the most erotic of ways. Arousal floods through his being along with an odd sense of pride for he is making this powerful and feared women crumble and twitch with just the flick of his tongue. How he could do more, how he could do so much more to her, maybe even give her a climax good enough to win him his freedom, but he is literally tied down to only his tongue.

"Harder, Hood," she demands but it's more strained this time, more of a whimpered moan, though he would never call her out on it.

Robin moves his tongue in earnest to and fro and back and forth, hard and rough against the very tip of her clit. The queen's thighs begin to tremble, more of her weight being pressed onto his mouth as she begins to grow close, her fingers like claws at the back of his head and he swears she is about to cum, swears she is going to forget her plan and let him taste her orgasm when, "Fuck! Off. Stop! e-enough."

The thief pulls away almost immediately and the queen gasps, actually gasps, for air. "Well," she breathes after a moment, "Nimble fingers and a nimble tongue. Makes me wonder what your cock can do- but then again I have no need to wonder."

Robin looks up at the ruler of the land with wide and aroused eyes as he watches her crouch so that she is eye level with him, though their eyes do not connect, her fingers reaching for his length and pumping it once, twice, three times before she is leaning forward, guiding the tip of him to and fro over her wetness before tapping it against her still sensitive clit.

He cannot help but watch in awe and complete and utter arousal as she loses herself in sensation before his very eyes, he doesn't think that he has ever been as turned on as he is in this moment. There is something about the evil queen which makes him weak and powerless and he cannot seem to mind one fucking bit. Not when his tip is gliding through her spit slick skin.

"So good," she breathes, her fingers firm at his base before she stops moving him, instead she holds him still, scoots closer and without any further warning she sinks right down onto him, her feet remaining planted at the sides of his thighs as she squats right down so that he fills her to the brim.

Simultaneous moans fill the room as the queen reaches forward, grabbing his shoulder with her free hand to steady herself before she brings herself up and then slamming back down again. Robin has to bite his tongue in fear of releasing the string of curse words that so desperately want to be shouted out. She feels incredible wrapped around him, so warm, so wet, the friction delicious. She repeats the action again and then again, and again, and again and again, until she is literally bouncing atop of his cock and there isn't a darn thing Robin can do to help but just sit back and enjoy the friction.

Blue eyes roam the gentle bounding of the queen's breast each time the skin of her rear slaps against the skin of his lower thighs, and she's tight, so fucking tight, and she's sighing, high pitched sounds which has his length tightening and pre cum leaking from his tip, and though pleasurable it may be, the discomfort in his knees is dulling that delight, making his climax seem further away.

Though the same can't be said for the queen, he can literally feel her growing tighter and tighter like a coil around his length as she continues to move up and down, up and down, the muscles in her legs not once tiring. And he must be hitting her in _the_ spot, the spot which makes her eyes roll back, for her eyes are tightly closed, her teeth gritted and muffling the sounds of utter pleasure that squeeze through.

Then she's dropping a hand, pulling it from his shoulder and dropping it to rub quickly and harshly at her clit, and she's going to cum, he can feel it, can feel the tightness in her walls, can feel them pulsate around him, and fuck it feels so good but he's not there, not yet, he wants to but he can't and he just needs-

"Yes!" the queen cries, throwing her head back, "Oh fuck yes!" she adds, stopping her thrusts with one final slam downwards so that he's filling her to the brim as she comes around him.

And this is the perfect time to admire her, when her cheeks are blushing, her hair messy and skin sweaty, it's hot, it's sexy, and she has just given that all to him. For a moment he thinks she going to start up again, shoot for a second orgasm and allow him his, but she doesn't, instead she throws him a wicked smirk as she grips his base, still hard, and slips from him, standing on shaky legs. "I'm finished with you for now." She breathes, waving her hands so that his are freed. "I suggest you get some rest, you'll need your energy for tomorrow."

Robin eyes widen and his lips part to fight back but he doesn't get the chance to as she is disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke causing Robin to growl in sexual frustration. His manhood still glistens with the queen's climax but as he goes to reach for it, to finish the job and claim his well deserved end a familiar magical pull forces his hands back behind his back and the echo of a mocking voice flits across the cell.

"I said get some rest."


End file.
